


Red and Black

by Moontyger



Category: Loveless
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-29
Updated: 2010-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-08 10:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontyger/pseuds/Moontyger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Loveless Valentine's Day fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red and Black

Kio swirled his brush in red paint, remembering how red had swirled down the drain, thinned with water. Not _his_ blood, oh no. Soubi's, as always. He should be grateful, he supposed, that Soubi allowed him to do even this much: take him home, tend his wounds, care for him. It was the one way he didn't shut him out, the only piece of him he'd ever really have: his blood on Kio's hands, staining them with guilt that wasn't his.

His brush passed over the canvas, leaving a streak of red behind. Red on white, like blood on his best friend's too pale skin. He grit his teeth angrily and he felt a splinter from the brush handle enter his finger. Kio ignored it. He knew who bore the guilt for Soubi's wounds, his haunted eyes. _Aoyagi._ He'd call and Soubi always went, left everything as though it meant nothing, as though the life he had... as though _Kio_ meant nothing. He knew better than to argue with him, though he knew what he'd see when Soubi came home. Aoyagi, thief of everything that Kio wanted, and he didn't even treat him well! All those injuries, and did Aoyagi tend them, wash Soubi and care for him, bring him home if he were too hurt to get there himself? _Of course not._ That was what Kio was for, as much Aoyagi's dog as Soubi was, though at least he resented it.

Black now, the color of his own despair, as black as Aoyagi's ice-cold heart. Beloved? Kio hated him. Didn't he _see_ what he was doing to Soubi? Didn't he _care_? Soubi loved him, gave him everything Kio wanted... and it meant nothing, made no visible impression. Merely his due.

Kio's brush strokes were faster now, almost frantic, and he didn't even want to know what expression was on his face. He had to get this _out_, free himself, free both of them. He wanted to save Soubi, but how can you save someone from themselves?

That night, though, he smiled, acted the happy and goofy friend Soubi depended on him to be, grinning and nearly bouncing as he gave the finished painting, still wet, to the only person who seemed to not know how Kio felt; his demeanor as much a gift as the painting itself. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sou-chan."  


 


End file.
